


Slipped Facade

by Wizardchester91



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Abandonment, Emotional Hurt, Grief/Mourning, Hurt Loki (Marvel), Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 14:47:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20707778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wizardchester91/pseuds/Wizardchester91
Summary: The truth behind the illusion, or how Loki got glass in his foot.





	Slipped Facade

Loki paced the cell like a caged animal. He had long ago mussed his hair, anxiously running his hands through it.

His eyes were hollow, he hadn't slept properly in days. These damn cells- there was no darkness. How could he sleep like this? Freya was sneaking him out, letting him bathe and bringing him changes of clothes when she could...and visiting him nightly. Hence his pacing. It had been three days since the sounds battle had stopped and she was still not here.

Instead a guard was making his way towards him. His eyes flickered for a moment, a twinge of fear of and anticipation. He quickly smoothed his features. "Come to torture me? Perhaps clap me in chains again? Maybe this time Odin wants me strung up by my toes from the terrace." He purred, his voice carefully controlled.

He froze, his eyes catching the look of mourning and pain on the guards face. Oh dear gods....his mind began to make connections and he found himself struggling to breathe, having to focus to maintain his facade.

"There was an attack. I'm...afraid that Freyja was killed. I-I'm sorry your highness."

Pain lanced through loki's chest and for a moment he couldn't breathe, couldn't think. His words were choked. "And her funeral?"

"Already taken care of. She has left us, Laufeyson."

Another dagger of pain.

"Then you may go. Thank you." He inclined his head dismissively.

His mind was spinning.

They had forgotten him. His mother was gone, and he was so insignificant in everyone's minds that they had not only denied him the right to her funeral, but had only told him as an afterthought.

He screamed, doubled over in pain and fury, tears springing from his eyes against his will. Seized with a sort of madness he hurled a chair at the wall, swinging it over and over until it broke. He turned, his rage and pain consuming him, hurling more furniture, his eyes wild, sobbing hysterically.

"IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED! YOU SICK OLD BASTARD!!" he shrieked at nothing.

"DID YOU WANT TO SEE ME LOSE MY NERVE?" With a swing of his arm the contents of the bookshelf flew across the room. Next the bed, and the table. A vase shattered, and Loki staggered into the mess, howling and cursing as shards of glass pierced his foot. He slumped, broken and defeated against the wall, screaming in agony, in lonliness, in rage.

An eerie stillness settled over him and he slid sideways, a choked cry falling from his throat. He was truely alone. He was going to rot down here, alone, unwanted, a useless discarded relic.

And the only one who had ever seen any good in him, the only one who had ever shown him any love, or compassion, was gone.

'Why...Why her? Why couldn't they take me instead??" He whimpered. "I'm the one who's always in trouble. I'm the one who knows things people generally want..."

He was in pain, exhausted, broken. And facing a terrifying prospect of madness and isolation.


End file.
